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elfwitchtrickster · 5 months ago

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Magic show - Loki fluff oneshot

Summary: Loki has a major crush the quiet reader but doesn't know how to get close to you. So he gathers the avengers for a faux magic show where he ‘accidentally’ handcuffs the two of you together, forcing you to spend time with him.

Loki stared at her H/C locks lovingly from across the room. Ever since Y/N had stepped foot into the compound she had intrigued the God of Mischief. While he did not see her often as their missions rarely overlapped, he bubbled with excitement every time he saw her making her morning coffee or relaxing with the other avengers. He had only spoken to her twice, once their first hello upon meeting in the hall and second when she accidentally dropped a stack of files and he was kind enough to help her pick them up.

She seemed rather quiet when talking to others and he was unsure how he to befriend her.Over the past few weeks he had generated many strategies to get Y/N to talk to him. Deciding that life or death, escape situations probably weren't the best environment for their first full conversation, Loki opted for his next devious plan.

He watched Y/N take a seat next to Wanda on the large couch in the avengers living room and tried to hide his smirk. "Welcome" he announced. “To the God of Mischief's magic show" he said using his magic to write his title in the air with sparks. "Okay what are you planning Reindeer Games, if this compound ends up in flames, I swear to-" "Relax my metal acquaintance, your compound will remain safe and sound, as will all of you" Loki cut Tony off with a smile. The other Avengers still looked skeptical, save Peter, Vision and Y/N. His eyes softened, noticing that the girl was not scared of him.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y is Reindeer Games gonna ruin my compound" Tony spoke aloud. "I detect no sign of malicious or deceitful behaviour sir" the assistant announced to the room. "Very well" Stark muttered, leaning back into the couch. Loki smirked as he continued with his act.

He performed a few rudimentary tricks first, then using his magic to conjure some impressive illusions. "For my finale I will need a volunteer" he said, looking out at all the others. He purposefully used his magic to steal Peter's voice in fear that the spider boy would take Y/N's place. "I'll do it" her tentative voice was music to his ears. He bowed deeply, ushering her onto his makeshift stage. "This next trick is an escape illusion, where I will magically free Y/N and I from these, without a key" he said clamping the handcuffs shut on his and Y/N's wrists. He had conjured the cuffs himself, strategically crafting them without key holes and making them strong enough to be almost unbreakable.

"As you can see, they are quite secure" he said lifting his wrist and pulling Y/N's arm up with him. "And now, I shall release from this-" he pretended to stop talking out of panic, as he jerked his wrist, feigning an attempt to get out off the cuffs. He chuckled lightly "Just a moment" he turned around and rapidly fumbled with the metal chains, faking a desperate wrestle with the handcuffs. "Why is it not working" he mumbled.

"You okay there Loki?" Steve asked in a concerned tone. "Quite alright thank you" he snipped. He continued with his sham until finally he dropped the cuffs in defeat. He turned around with a sheepish smile "So um it seems the handcuffs are temporarily stuck" he said. The other avengers broke into yells of indignation yet to his joy, Y/N did not seem as perturbed.

"What did you do, swallow the key?" Bucky asked sarcastically. "There is no keyhole" Loki replied "true magic is a high stakes endeavour"

He answered Bucky's unanswered question and held his chin high. "Can we break it?" Thor asked, and Loki rolled his eyes at his brother's typical violent solution. "I sincerely doubt it" he said. "Okay you know what, Banner and I will go down to the lab and see if we can find a way to crack these" Tony said getting up from his seat and nudging Bruce. "Until then, looks like you're stuck with Reindeer Games" he said to Y/N. She didn't respond and Loki waited for the heroes to clear out before he spoke to her.

"I apologise Lady Y/N, I truly did not mean to get you stuck with me" he said. After all Loki's time in Asgard, he knew the key to making any women melt, was being a gentleman. "That's okay, it might be fun" she replied. He was delighted to learn she wasn't opposed to spending time with him. No one said anything for a moment, Loki silently gestured her towards the couch.

They sat in awkward silence for a while before Y/N spoke up "I'm kinda hungry" she said. "We can get a snack from Stark's cupboard" Loki said. "Or we could make something" she countered with a smile. "What do you propose?" He questioned. She smiled wider and jerked him up, speeding to the kitchen. She began placing trays, bowls and ingredients on the kitchen island, pulling Loki's hand along with hers. "We are gonna make cookies!" She said clapping her hands together. "Interesting what type?" He asked peering over at the food. "Chocolate chip" she said, laying out sheets of baking paper on a tray.

She instructed Loki to put baking soda and salt into a bowl while she fought with the jar of flour, struggling to open the lid. It popped open unexpectedly and a puff of white flour enveloped the god. When the cloud cleared, Loki was left with an irritated expression on his face. The flour had settled in his hair making him look like he aged twenty years. Y/N's hand flew to her mouth as she failed to contain her laugh. She doubled over as she looked at the usually majestic god, covered in baking flour.

It was if her giggles were magical because Loki could not hide the smirk growing on his face. "Oh you think that's funny?" He said, raising an eyebrow. Y/N was too busy laughing to answer. As she tried to catch her breath, Loki dipped his hand into the bag and threw a handful of flour over her bent figure. Her smile was quickly replaced with shock and she let out a gasp. But Y/N was not one to back down, she grabbed a pile, flinging it in Loki's face, making him spit out white smoke. She reached for another handful but the bag disappeared, resurfacing in Loki's grasp.

Thankfully it was in the hand that was chained to Y/N so she could easily steal it back. Loki switched the soft weapon to his other hand and lifted it high into the air. She groaned in frustration, jumping to reach it. On her third jump she knocked over the cookie tray sending it flying into her and Loki. They fell back against the counter and Loki dropped the bag. In an instant, they were both painted in white powder, when they turned to face each other they burst out laughing. "You- you look like an old man" Y/N said between giggles. "I could say the same about you" Loki quipped earning him a slap on the arm.

Coincidentally, they both leaned down to grab the tray and their noses bumped together. Loki chuckled as he helped his flour covered baking partner up. Now standing, Y/N realised how close they were together. Her chest brushed his and she could feel the hotness of his breath. She reached up to dust a bit of flour off his eyelash but then withdrew it, embarrassed. "Sorry" she muttered but before she could move away, he gently clutched her hand. "It's quite alright" he said sincerely, dusting her shoulder to make her feel more comfortable. She smiled up at the god in silent thanks.

Once Loki had used his magic to clean up the kitchen they successfully managed to get the cookies in the oven without any mess. As they waited for them to bake, they sat on top of the island. "You know, when Thor and I were little we used to sneak into the kitchens at night to steal cookies" he said with a fond smile.

"Really?" Y/N laughed. "Yes, in fact we did it every time we had guests because they always made the best cookies for the guests" he said. "We got caught a lot, Thor would just run in and grab as many as he could, whereas I would use more stealthy approach" he said shaking his head amusedly. "But once we became teenagers our midnight escapades stopped" he said with a hint of sadness. "It's nice to have someone to share cookies with again" he said, looking at her with a warm gaze. His blue eyes almost seemed to glow in the dim light, Y/N found herself staring at them longer than she should have.

She reached into the oven, dragging Loki's hand with her. She shut it and a rush of warm air hit her, permeating the kitchen with the smell of freshly baked cookies. "I bet my cookies are better than the ones in Asgard" she said cockily. "Oh do you?" Loki asked, his signature smirk creeping onto his face. "See for yourself" she said carefully sliding one of the cookies off the tray. To her surprise Loki was not startled by the hot crust.

He took a large bite, chewing slowly and carefully. He nodded thoughtfully as he swallowed "It is hard to admit but you may be right" he said savouring the sweet taste that lingered in his mouth. She took a bite too, sighing happily as the chocolate chips melted in her mouth. She leant against the counter, munching on their creation. On the corner of her lips, a bit of chocolate was smudged so Loki took it upon himself to wipe it. He stepped closer to Y/N, rubbing his thumb along her lips and wiping it on a tissue behind her.

She was now trapped between Loki and the counter, yet she wasn't complaining in the slightest. Her breathing grew heavy as Loki's head tilted towards her. Her eyes fluttered close as his lips pressed against her. His fingers danced across her cheeks and he pulled her closer to him by her waist. The kiss grew deeper, as he revelled in the sweetness of her chocolate tongue. A sensation even warmer than her cookies spread through him and he got lost in her kiss.

Reluctantly he pulled apart, not daring to break eye contact. Y/N's eyes were glazed and she had a goofy smile on her face. "I guess you really liked the cookies" she said with a small laugh. His hand dropped to hold the one that was chained to hers, "actually I prefer the baker" he said, leaning in for another impossibly sweet kiss.

An hour later the cookies were almost completely eaten, all that was left was a plate full of crumbs next to the couch. There, Y/N lay between Loki's arms as he told her about the last book he had read. In between sentences Y/N would place little kisses on his jaw, turning Loki a brighter shade of pink each time.

Just as he leaned in for another kiss, the sound of footsteps came from beside the couch. "Whoa, what's going on here?" Tony asked in disbelief. Y/N attempted to sit up, mortified at the situation she had been found in, but Loki pushed her down by the chest. "You are the last one that should criticise public demonstrations of affection" Loki said coolly. "Fair enough" he answered, kneeling down beside the pair.

"Give" Stark said, motioning for their handcuffs. Holding it above the floor, Loki poured a bright purple liquid onto the chain. It sizzled and bubbled but did not even scratch the silver metal. Stark let out a howl of frustration, tossing the empty vial behind him. Loki was bemused. watching the man."No matter" he said calmly, waving his hands and the cuffs disintegrated in a burst of green sparks. "Wha- how?" Y/N stuttered. "It served its purpose" he said pressing a kiss to her forehead. She looked at him in confusion for a second. Then "LOKI" she yelled, but the god only laughed.

#loki #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader fluff #loki odinson #loki oneshot #loki x reader #loki x reader fluff #mcu loki #loki imagines #tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston loki #marvel loki #loki laufesyon x reader #love #domestic Loki #domestic fluff

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super-marvel-dc · 5 months ago

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Y/N: *Doing a handstand while jumping up and down*

Loki, to Bucky: What the hell are they doing?

Bucky: They're having apple withdrawal symptoms...

Loki: I beg your pardon?

Bucky: Whenever they go without apples for a certain amount of time they bend themself up like a pretzel and do handstands.

Loki: Huh, odd...

Loki: *Conjures up an apple, and throws it at Y/N, hitting them in the head*

#y/n is fine...#probably...#whoever gets my reference i love you. whoever doesn't I'm gonna need your name and what you look like... for reasons... 📖✍🏻👀#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson x y/n #loki layfeyson x you #loki layfeson #loki x reader #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel

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mischieffae · 2 months ago

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Ok but imagine Loki seeing you in distress, & the first thing he does is goes in to full protective mode.

For one, the poor soul who decided to hurt you will never see it coming. Loki is not a fighter who acts on emotion alone, but also on whit & brain. He uses manipulation tactics, causing the attacker to drop down his guard before the God plunges like a viper towards his prey.

The fight ended before it even began.

Shadow-play is something Loki does not use often, but in dire circumstances. Seeing you sprawled upon the ground with pools of blood surrounding you awakens something deep within him. A monster, that should never be UNLEASHED.

The shadows of his form appear to be of an ancient version of himself, holding onto the victim by his arms against the coolness of the concrete wall. It frightens you to see such power that was hidden beneath a nonchalant facade.

Now, the old Norse Gods see his potential.

' Oh come now, FRIGHTENED so soon ? '

He's toying with him, the attacker's face a pale ghostly expression as he tugs with fever. There's no way out of this, no way for him to hide and scramble to safety. You almost feel sorry for him, however the cut above your lip reminds you of what he deserves.

' And here I thought the little mouse would at least attempt to fight back. Pity. '

Loki edges forward with both intricate knives tossing in his hands skillfully, his gaze narrowing with each slow step he takes. One of his blades runs teasingly along the other's bobbing neck from the adrenaline, not in a satisfying manner but that of pure wicked intent.

' .... - You should have not HURT them ... '

Was there sadness in his voice? Each syllable that escaped his lips drew a drop of blood down the man's skin, tears running down his face as he profusely apologizes for his attack.

But it's too late for that now.

You gaze towards them with pure awe, for such power does not go unchecked so easily. A gasp emits from your chapped lips as you notice a swirl of emerald green surrounding them both, shielding you to witness Loki's true advances. He doesn't want you to see him like this, like a MONSTER.

& all you can hear, are the guttural sounds of true fear.

#loki x reader #x reader #gn reader #loki x gn reader #x gn reader #i needed to get this off my chest #i just love protective loki ok

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polarisbibliotheque · 7 months ago

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Hey Polaris, hope this helps as a vent piece:

Anger is one of the main traits of demons. Everyone's anger has manifested outward at least some point yet, one person keeps it under Heavy lock and key, Dante.

One day, the anger manifests in its destructive, gruesome and targeted anger in his Sin Devil Trigger as it manifests when that last patient strand snaps.

So here's the prompt:

As Reader wakes up from a hard hit, once fully back to full consciousness, they witness that destructive rage that Dante kept under lock and key. Nearby, Vergil is protectively standing in front of Reader but something's wrong, his hands quivering as he keeps Yamato out in front of him. The real question now pops into Reader's head, how do you calm to a blazing inferno that's unrestrained and now in full swing?

Dante going on a full Sin Devil Trigger rampage (or, very angry Dante)

Pairing: Dante x Reader

Summary: Vergil wasn't one to fear easily - but one thing he would always dread to see; and that would be Dante losing his humanity.

Trigger Warning: Reader stops breathing and is seemingly dead for a while. Lots of blood, lots of anger, lots of self-loathing on this one (they all need therapy)

Author's Note: Oh boy, this was a conversation I was having with dear Fury: how Dante is 10/10 the scariest when he's mad because he keeps his demon on a leash *cough* Subhuman *cough* and he's the one everyone should fear when going berserk, not Vergil. With all the requests I'm having, currently, Fury decided to leave this suggestion out until I had a little more time to write...

Fast forward a few weeks, I'm having issues with a couple of ~friends~ and, honestly, I haven't been this angry in years. To the point of trembling, laughing like a maniac, and wanting to fistfight the gods. Hence, Fury sent me this vent piece so I could satisfy my wrath in a more ~healthy~ way. Hope you guys like it, though, Dante needs a big ol' hug and someone to openly cry too, not just Vergil.

Again, they all need therapy

Not many things could stir fear in Vergil’s heart.

Mundus’ voice, silently taunting him in the back of his head, the memory of everything he had been through in Hell was one of those things. The other one was his twin’s fury.

It was a rare thing for him to grip Yamato with an unsteady pair of hands, putting a lot of effort and strength for them not to tremble – but the sight of Dante completely lost in his bloodlust was not to be trifled with.

The first time Vergil saw it with his own eyes was in Hell, when he and his brother spent a considerable amount of time to cut down the Qliphoth. Vergil was used to the taunts of demons and Dante was as well… Or at least he should be, at that point in their lives.

But the taunts were many. They had been running through the fields of fire without sleep for a couple of days – in the human world, probably, as time had a different flow in Hell – killing everything in sight; and hearing every kind of putrid taunt they could.

What made Dante snap, though, was a simple implication: that it was Dante’s fault that Vergil fell and got subdued by Mundus, suffering endless nightmares for years to come. A strange glint sparked in Dante’s eyes at that moment. The scream that rumbled in his chest was enough to be heard through many layers of Hell.

It wasn’t Dante’s fault, Vergil knew that very well. He had refused to hold his brother’s hand, there was nothing Dante could have done. It was Vergil’s choice, and his sin only. But… For the first time, he saw how much his brother blamed himself for that. How much Dante had suffered, all those years, alone in the human world.

As above, so below… Dante suffered alongside Vergil all those years.

And all of that because of a stupid, childish decision from Vergil’s part. He observed Dante in shock as that realization came down on him – and as he watched the prized human heart of his twin brother seemingly disappear, giving place to a blind, bloodthirsty demon in full Sin Devil Trigger fashion, killing everything in his path.

Vergil stayed away from the destruction, always keeping an eye on his brother… If he could call him that. Dante – the foolish, laidback, talkative, jack of all trades, witty and quippy brother he knew – seemingly was nowhere to be seen. He was gone, and everything left was his demon, with a never-ending thirst for blood.

Not that Vergil hadn’t had moments like those, but he was always alone. He would always find the end of his rage on the floor, exhausted, weak and cold. And so, he waited for Dante’s wrath to wear off – patiently, observing with a heavy heart, sorrow and guilt.

He didn’t enjoy seeing his brother like that.

That was the reason why, when Nico put to vote who was the scariest when angry, you threw your vote at Dante. You and the rest of the crew, except for the Spardas, decided to have a night out at a local diner, just to wind down and have a bit of fun – that sort of talk was a given when you were together.

“Dante, really?” Lady raised one of her eyebrows, staring at you with nothing but doubt in her multicolored eyes. “He can’t hurt even a fly!” When she said that, though, all of the eyes of the group turned at her in disbelief. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been hunting with him for a while. Dante can be a weapon of mass destruction, but he just… He doesn’t have that heart.”

“Hmmm… I think I have to agree with you on that one.” Trish slowly stirred her chocolate milkshake as Lady thanked with a sip of her vanilla one. “Look, I saw him killing Mundus. I saw Dante fighting the greatest and worst of Hell. He can be dangerous, but his human heart doesn’t let him be scary.”

“That is exactly my point.” You were ready to defend your thesis like a lawyer at court.

“Then why the hell would you vote for him as the scariest?” Nico didn’t have a cigarette on her hands because she had been forbidden to smoke inside the diner, but if she had, she would have been pointing at you with it. “Big flamin’ demon got nothin’ on Vergil, that one’s got the eyes of a killer. Got you chillin’ just by lookin’ at you.”

“Vergil doesn’t control his anger that much – I go as far as saying he doesn’t control himself as much as Dante.” And with those words, you won all the shocked looks you could at that evening. You would count that as a feat. “Is Dante a fool of a Tûk, as my dear Gandalf would say? Yes, he is. Is Vergil a walking death omen? Yes, he also is. But, I have talked to him about Dante being angry, and Vergil gave me enough hints to make it very clear Dante doesn’t let all his feelings out – he chooses to pass as a very aloof himbo of a man, but he is far from that. I’ve been his partner for enough time to say I agree with Vergil.”

“You might have a point.” Kyrie took a sip of her strawberry milkshake, as you let a triumphant smile take over your lips. “Dante might be playful, but we all know he has very deep emotions underneath that. It’s just like with Nero and his punk attitude.”

“But instead, he’s a cinnamon bun on the inside.” Nico topped Kyrie’s phrase, provoking some laughs on the group. That was the most accurate description of Nero if you had ever seen one.

“Dante loves his human heart, but he has a certain beef with his demonic one.” You wouldn’t say to the whole group you went as far as to believe he actually loathed his demonic heritage, as that was something too personal, but you had a hunch they all had some suspicions of that deep inside. “He keeps it in check, hidden, tamed. He lashes out when it’s a good time to do so – when fighting demons.” As you started getting some hums of agreement, you sneakily took Trish’s milkshake. “We have never seen Dante actually angry. And I don’t think we ever will.”

“Oh, now you’re makin’ it difficult.” Nico had to ponder those words, even if she couldn’t really see Dante being as dangerous as you said.

“Eh, not for me. I’m still going with Vergil.” Lady shrugged, firm on her opinion as always.

You took a little longer to get to the final vote – discussing what you had just said, as Trish called you out for stealing her milkshake and having it back, only to share it with you – but the answer was almost unanimous: the scariest one on a fit of wrath was Vergil.

Almost, because you kept adamant in voting on your red devil.

Vergil never came to know about all of that, but if he did, he would have agreed with you – not publicly, as he would hold his new title with pride, always content on inspiring fear as a way to keep himself and his loved ones protected. He would, however, agree with you privately, remembering Dante’s display of wrath in Hell.

That was the reason why his hands trembled on Yamato during your latest hunt together – the one where everything went wrong.

If only you would wake up. Maybe he could save Dante’s soul.

It all happened so fast, Vergil didn’t even see how things ended the way they were at the moment. On one second you were fighting by their side, on the other, you were tossed on the floor, soaked in your own blood, chest immobile. Not breathing.

“Y/n! No, y/n!” It was the very first time Vergil saw Dante dropping everything to run towards you. His brother let go of his sword, ignored all demons around and ran as if you were the only being in that godforsaken place. Vergil had to put himself between him and the demons, keeping them at bay as Dante quickly made his way to you. “Y/n! C’mon, babe! Y/n!”

Dante’s knees hit the floor with a loud thud as he dropped all his weight by your side – not feeling anything at the moment, but it would certainly leave a couple of horrid bruises. As his sky-blue eyes met that harrowing sight, desolation filled his face; Dante forgot how to breath for a split second, barely feeling his very own hands, legs tingling as his body seemed to sink in the ground even further.

Vergil stated the very same thing his brother did – and he never thought he could feel that way with the thought of losing you; but there was Vergil, with numbness on his fingers and a sickness in his stomach. You were the little light that Dante had found in his life, one of the only good things that had happened to him during all his damned years of living. Vergil knew how important you were, how only you could make Dante smile with a sincerity he only had seen when they were kids. What would be of his brother – his foolish, stupid, beloved brother – if he lost you to demons as well…?

The answer would come very soon, but not without a fight from Dante’s side.

“C’mon, y/n, open your eyes…!” Dante’s voice trembled, in a way Vergil had never listened to before. He watched as his twin brother desperately tried to bring you back, heavy hands massaging your chest, followed by breathing inside your mouth, and repeating once more. “C’mon, babe… Don’t leave me here…!” Those words were a whisper as he trembled trying to make your heart beat again, giving his breath to you once more so you could also breathe.

The realization washed Dante’s body as a cold wave, as he slowly felt he wasn’t in his body anymore – his body feeling your weight on his hands, but his soul completely out. Maybe flying away to meet yours wherever you were.

But then, a twisted symphony of distorted cackles and mockery ripped through his ears – the realization also came to the demons, and now they gloated with their first victory. Not only that, but humiliated the son of Sparda for losing his own beloved just like his father had lost Eva.

Vergil was ready to unsheathe Yamato and unleash all his fury to cut those demons in million pieces for that lack of respect – and to allow his brother to mourn properly. He himself had to mourn: you were too precious at the Devil May Cry for Vergil not to feel your loss.

But he wouldn’t need that. A deep growl grabbed the Dark Slayer’s attention, making him immediately turn to his brother. Dante got up from the floor with nothing but rage in his eyes bleeding tears, bare teeth as his demonic heritage boiled to rip through his skin and unleash all its fury on his enemies.

If only Dante had waited a single second, he would have realized what Vergil did. He would have heard a faint heartbeat – trembling, but fighting to survive. He would have seen your broken body trying to breath underneath the blood.

Dante killed the first demons with their own weapons, running towards his sword with a scream that only grew in strength. Vergil kneeled by your side, checking your pulse on your neck, staining his hands with your blood but stating what made his heart beat faster: you weren’t lost. Dante had to know.

The floor rumbled. As Vergil turned his attention towards Dante, he immediately turned back to you to protect you with his body. Dante’s scream thundered through the floor, as if it came from the deepest pits of Hell itself – and a thousand degrees exploded in sparks and molten lava as his Sin Devil Trigger took the place of the man who stood there before.

Vergil was used to the flames of Hell, they would not hurt him. But he wasn’t used to the wrath of his brother – and that might be something none of you would be able to recover. Vergil could take the heat of the explosion that took down many demons in its wake, but your human body couldn’t – and that was the reason why he had to do everything in his power to protect you.

Those silvery eyes turned back at Dante, still keeping a protective arm above you. Usually predatorial, now Vergil had nothing but worry in his gaze, watching with desolation as his brother became the bloodthirsty ruthless demon he never was.

In that state, Dante could make mistakes. He could hit you without even realizing. A misplaced use of his power, a wrong swing of his blade, another explosion of million degrees into hellish flames… Vergil could survive, not you. And, if Dante, who hadn’t realized yet you weren’t lost as he thought you were, ended up being the real reason of your demise…

Vergil didn’t even want to think what would happen.

For all he could see at that moment was a demon fiercely fighting other demons – or, better yet, easily subduing and mercilessly slaughtering all of them. And that was something that was so intrinsic to Dante’s heart: his mercy. Having Dante without his mercy, his kindness, his gentleness, his love, was the same as not having him at all… That was the source of his power, like rage was the source of Vergil’s power.

Watching his brother lost in wrath was heart wrenching, but knowing it could get even worse if he was to completely lose his soul was even more harrowing. Dante’s eyes bled his pain, even in that form, as he soaked his whole self in the viscous blood of his enemies – a monster beyond salvation, a creature without a soul, a lover without a heart. A man with his fragile hope crashed into pieces, abandoning everything that made him who he was, to allow himself to find some comfort through burning his own wrath.

For the first time, it downed on Vergil his brother might not come back. If he lost you, if Dante fatally wounded you, Vergil would never have him again – for Dante would lose the very last brink of humanity inside of him; a brink that Vergil couldn’t even see at that moment and didn’t even know if it was still there. Dante’s eyes were red, his growls distorted and animalistic, his power… Greater than Mundus, greater than even Sparda.

If Dante approached, Vergil would have to fight him. His brother wasn’t in a leveled state of mind to see logic – and he could hurt you, even if Dante would never do that. With all that blind wrath, though, Vergil didn’t even know if his brother would answer if he called.

Holding Yamato with a stronger grip than usual, Vergil stood in front of your body, guarding you from whatever harm that could come your way – be it in demon form… Or in his own twin brother form.

The cold hand of fear, though, slowly crept into his heart and held it on its stark clutches. Yes, Vergil spent his whole life sparring with that fool he had to call his brother – hearing Dante’s taunts and impossible physics, as if he didn’t even make an effort to make Vergil look like a complete buffoon during the fight, no matter how much technique and skill he had – but never Vergil imagined not having that.

Having Dante was a given. Fighting him was a given. Bantering, arguing, sparring, behaving like the bickering old set of twin brothers that they were. Vergil could say he wanted to defeat Dante, but he never wanted to get rid of him. What would his life be without his stupid brother?

Empty. Silent. Cold. Devoid of color.

Dante couldn’t go. And, most of all, he couldn’t go by Vergil’s hands. But if he was too much of a lose canon, if he was too far gone in his demonic frenzy, Vergil would have to put a stop to it…

Like Dante did with him as Nelo Angelo so many years before.

Vergil had to hold the cry that seemed to want to force its way out of his throat – holding back the tears that now glistened in his eyes. He was the most foolish of all… He was responsible for putting Dante on the same situation he found himself in at the moment – and just now he understood how harrowing, how painful and how much of a hell Dante had to go through.

Alone. Just like Vergil was alone in Hell – as above so below, the twins mirroring each other’s fates, on their realms and heritage of preference.

They weren’t so different after all.

As you started to hear the chaos around you once again, your head was spinning viciously and the pain that spread inside your lungs made you think you were going to explode. With an almost inaudible moan, you felt tears streaming down your eyes as you tried to open them, seemingly inhaling blood and pain every time you tried to breathe. You could feel you were covered in something wet and sometimes sticky, but it took some time for you to raise a trembling hand in front of your barely focusing eyes to realize it was blood.

Were you dead…? What had happened…? You could barely remember. You didn’t even know what hit you: suddenly everything turned black and now you were feeling like a bulldozer went over your body and somehow you managed to survive. Perhaps you didn’t, but if you were dead, you wouldn’t be feeling that much pain… At least, that was what people always said that happened after departing from the human world.

Plus, you could still hear the demons – but now, screaming in fear and trying to run away from something that was growling in such an inhuman tone, you wondered if you guys had accidentally summoned something bigger. By the noise, it had to be. The likes of Mundus and the other Kings of Hell – Vergil being the smallest of them, but still as deadly.

Perhaps it was Vergil…? To be fair, though, he never went all out without a really good reason. Maybe he thought you were dead? He appreciated you as much as a brother would appreciate his twin’s partner, but you didn’t expect him to have such a visceral reaction to your death; Unless…

You widened your eyes as your whole body seemed to be washed by a cold wave followed by a lightening that made you tingle from head to toes. Your heart sunk in your chest and the painful breaths you tried before were all but gone. Vergil would have a visceral reaction if he lost his brother. And that, you couldn’t even fathom: life without Dante didn’t exist… Or, at least, it would be something you wouldn’t want to go through.

You forced your body up, slowly turning to one side and barely using your arm to keep your weight as you tried to see what was going on. You had to find him, you had to find Dante. You would crawl to his body, you would shake him around as you could, you would give him your breath, you would give him your soul – but you would try everything to bring him back. You would hold him as tight as you could, you would cry over him, and there wouldn’t be a living or dead thing in this world that would be able to part you from him.

You widened your eyes once more when you saw Vergil keeping your body as a guardian warrior and the source of the chaos and destruction was your beloved red devil – lost in a frenzy, dripping with blood, eyes melting like lava and nothing of human in them.

You had never seen Dante like that.

“Verge…” You tried to cough the word out, but it was nothing more than a dying whisper. You couldn’t see how the blue devil furrowed his brows, thinking he might be hearing things – until you allowed a harsher breath to hurt your lungs so you could try to raise your trembling voice higher. “Vergil…!”

He turned his head enough to see you in the corner of his eyes – doing his best to still keep Dante in his sight. A wave of euphoria washed through Vergil’s body as his hands seemed to get steadier around Yamato: he was right, you were alive. As the fighter you were, the survivor you were… You were breathing and doing your best to get back on your feet again.

“Y/n…” But he couldn’t even talk: the floor rumbled again and Vergil knew what was coming. You placed your hands on the ground, widening your eyes and furrowing your brows, having never felt that before.

For a split second, you caught a glimpse of what was going on: Dante harnessing his power, ready to explode. You had never saw that. You had never saw his eyes devoid of his humanity. You had never seen your Dante as a complete demon like it was happening at that moment.

And, something that you had never been conscious to witness, Vergil threw himself over you to protect your body from his brother’s wrath. You had to cower behind his frame, gripping Vergil’s coat lapel for dear life, but still feeling the burning of a thousand degrees engulf you.

The blue devil didn’t even waver – but both of you had something in your eyes… The dread of the harrowing knowledge that that was Dante. All that destruction, that chaos, that blood… It was all Dante.

You were right, after all. His rage was the scariest to see.

“I need t-…” Your voice was raspy, having to stop mid phrase to cough some more blood that needed to come out of your lungs. “I need to talk to him.” You tried to take a deep breath, but once again it just stopped with a harsh sting on your chest. “He needs to know I’m alive.”

“Hmmm.” Vergil agreed with his head, but you knew he was still pondering what you had said. He helped you up on your feet – doing more of the work than you, easily lifting your body with his strength. “Dante isn’t himself at the moment…” Again, Vergil stood in front of you like a guardian, gripping the Yamato with both hands as soon as he saw you could stand by yourself. If you faltered, though, he was quick enough to hold you. “You must keep that in mind.”

“I know… And I am scared.” You answered in a whisper, looking over Vergil’s shoulder only to see Dante mercilessly slaughtering the last unlucky demons. “But it’s still Dante.”

Vergil didn’t know what to do, if he was being honest with himself. He could have held you back and kept you safe, as his demonic side told him to do, but something inside told him he should let you do what you had to do. Those silvery eyes watched as you bravely walked in haste towards danger; towards hell and doom, ready to embrace it… And willing to make it stop.

“Dante! Dante, love!” You kept calling, but, as Vergil feared before, his brother didn’t respond. He was too far gone, too lost in Hell to come back that easily. Vergil followed your steps slowly, lingering like a shadow behind you… Ready to do whatever he needed to do if Dante’s demon didn’t even recognize you in that blind rage. “Dante! You can stop now… Dante!”

With all the filthy bloody corpses piling up on the floor, that flaming red-hot demonic figure slowly turned its head towards you. Covered in blood, sword dripping with red, molten lava eyes raining all its hollow pain. Expressionless, as he always was on his Sin Devil Trigger, made of fire and coal, hate and rage.

Did he recognize you…? Did he understand what was going on…? Vergil’s grip on Yamato got stronger, ready to unleash a blow on his brother in order to protect you. What you were doing was a gamble – and one with not so nice odds to you. There was a reason why Vergil let Dante’s anger wear out when they were in Hell: he knew there was a good chance Dante wouldn’t even recognize him at the height of his wrath, just like it happened with Vergil on those situations. So, to say the moment at hand was dangerous was a serious understatement.

But humans would always be fascinating, wouldn’t they…? At least, that was what Vergil thought. That towering demon with a flaming chest and leathery wings turned towards you, carrying his huge sword dripping with demonic blood, doing nothing but heavy breathing – and you decided to fearlessly walk towards it.

Humans.

Vergil kept his distance, watching it all unfolding with a weary heart and a trigger hand at ready to fight his brother – to death, if he unfortunately needed to – in order to protect you. He couldn’t have the certainty you had, as your steps kept going in Dante’s direction.

Your legs were shaking, your knees were trembling, but… It was your lover. It was Dante. No matter how much he was lost into his frenzy and wrath, you had to believe his heart would remember you. His soul. It all happened because he thought he had lost you, he had to come back upon knowing you were alright.

It didn’t matter how horrid his wrath looked like, you knew he was in there somewhere.

“Dante… It’s me, I’m alright…” Your voice was still a whisper, unable to speak too loud, but also trying to soothe the anger in his heart. You hesitantly reached out to him, making a growl rumble inside his chest and your steps stop for a while – with Vergil half-unsheathing his sword, ready to fight. “Love…” You called again, breathing as deeply as you could, resuming your walking and extending your hand towards him. “My Dante…”

You were finally at arm’s reach. Vergil held his breath, eyebrows furrowed, silvery predator eyes fixated on what was supposed to be his brother. You raised your hand higher, resting it on Dante’s face.

His Sin Devil Trigger form was nothing but rough. His skin seemed like hard leather and rocky coal, burning so hot it could almost hurt your hand. You wouldn’t back down though: compared to him, you were soft and cold, too fragile and breakable; but you wouldn’t leave. You caressed his rough face, fingers feeling the sharp teeth, the spiky crevices, the unwelcoming features of a face made in Hell.

You felt, though, an unlikely moisture reaching your fingers: a droplet, running from those fiery, empty eyes – those inhuman eyes. You looked at it running through your fingers to the back of your hand, looking back into those frightening eyes that had nothing of a soul in them…

But he was there, wasn’t he? It was him, a part of him that Dante always fought so relentlessly to keep hidden, to keep on a tight leash in the deepest corner of his self. You could see Dante in those eyes – and, as soon as that realization washed through the demon’s body, his head leaned into your hand.

With a flaming spark, the red devil was gone and you had the man back: tired, desolated, falling apart. Dante still leaned his head into your hand – now with soft skin, smooth lips, closed eyes and flowy white hair – almost like an animal that had never been touched with kindness in a whole lifetime. As he opened his eyes, you could see the redness of his tears crowning those sky-blue tones you always loved so much… And there was nothing but fragile vulnerable humanity in them.

“Hi, cowboy…” You whispered with a shadow of a smile on your lips, while your very eyes poured tears – you didn’t know what kind of tears, though, if of happiness, sadness, desperation, pity or love. Maybe all of them at the same time: it was inherently human to feel more than words could describe. You caressed his face as Dante himself started to pour all of his feelings out – this time, not in a fit of rage. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“I thought I lost you.” His coarse voice came through as if Dante had been weeks without speaking and his very own vocal cords were barely working. You didn’t doubt his body would be in pain after all he had been through during… That. “I thought… You were gone. I’d never see you again, you were… Like… Like…” Dante closed his eyes again, head hanging low. He could barely breathe as the words fought to get out of his chest and stop suffocating him. His tears hitting the floor while you took his hair out of the way so you could see his face – there was nothing but pain; a pain that hadn’t been healed since he was a child. “Like everyone in my damned fuckin’ life; those things… I thought they had extinguished… Your light, like everyone… Like everyone eventually does… By my side…”

That was rare. Very rare. Dante was very honest with his feelings and usually didn’t hide anything from you, but not to that point – the point where he would honestly and openly say how much he thought he was the thing that doomed everyone else who decided to live with him or be friends with him. That loathing he had inside his heart, that he hid so carefully, it wasn’t something he would say out loud – it was something you knew because you always understood him so well.

You let go of his hair and locked your arms around his large frame, resting your head on his chest – you could hear his heart beating, his human heart. Dante hesitated for the very first time in his life, keeping his arms by your side for a split second, his teary eyes shocked with your reaction.

After all, you had just seen his absolute worst. All the things he always smothered so much inside himself, keeping them on check, always so controlled. You had seen it in all its spiteful and horrid glory – and your reaction was to embrace him instead of running away. Dante expected you to run, it would honestly be the logic and most human thing to do after seeing all of that.

But you walked towards him with your heart beating in fear, touching his face to grab him out of the pit of wrath he was buried into, holding him tightly in your arms as he broke down in all his anger, misery, trauma and self-loathing.

It lasted a split of a second indeed – for soon Dante’s strong arms were wrapped around your fragile body, keeping you close and safe from harm… As well as having his face buried on your neck, crying all that smothered pain inside of his heart out. Your bodies were too exhausted to keep standing for too long – so when your knees wavered, Dante did the same and you kneeled on the floor, never letting go of each other; Dante holding you as tight as he could, promising himself he would never let go.

Vergil could finally put Yamato to rest. When they were in Hell, he allowed his brother’s rage to wear off while observing from afar. This time, he could do the same: guarding you and quietly keeping you both safe and sound.

A sad ghost of a smile graced the Dark Slayer’s lips as he calmly observed you. Maybe his brother was right after all, and he could only wish someday he would be as strong as Dante to carry such power.

A human heart.

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munsonshire · 7 months ago

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Non-sexual intimacy With Loki

Pairing: Loki x gn! reader Warnings: pure fluff Masterlist Loki Masterlist

Running your fingers through eachothers hair

Loki staying awake to watch you sleep. If you question him on whi he does it he will tease you saying it is because you snore loudly

Smiling for no reason when seeing echother

Massaging his shoulders (or him yours) after a long day

Understanding eachother without needing to talk

Your head on his lap when you're both reading

Slow dancing together at night

Doing your own separate activities in the same room. Like you understand that maybe you don't like doing the same things but you want to stay together

#loki of asgard #loki marvel #loki odinson #god i love this man too much #loki x reader cute #loki masterlist #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader fluff #loki x y/n #loki headcanons #loki headcanon #marvel #marvel headcanons

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daisybell17 · 1 year ago

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Why do you love me? — Loki

“Why do you love me?” It came out of nowhere. You and Loki were just enjoying the silence of the night in your shared bed.

Looking up from the book in his hands, Loki’s eyebrows pressed together, a much more concerned look displayed the features of his face and his eyes locked onto yours…”What?”

“Why do you love me?” You repeated, eyes tearing up and that familiar pang in your throat rising

“Why do I love you? Because you’re…you?”

“What about me screams “I love you with all my heart!”?”

Loki chuckled and put his book away “Love I love you because you’re you. It’s that simple. I love every aspect of you, even the flaws you claim you have…I love…”

You started sobbing…

“Hey hey…Love what’s wrong?”

“Just…i don’t know…life? memories? everything? I feel like an idiot” You had admitted, letting your true feelings out

“You’re not an idiot for feeling…it’s being human…” He places his arms around your body, allowing you to rest your head against his chest as he rubbed his hand up and down your arm and back

“I’m sorry…i know i ask so many stupid questions, but sometimes i really wonder why you love me…”

“You’re not stupid and don’t apologise please…I love you…you’re the most precious being I have had the honour to know…the fact you even entertained me in the first place is nothing short but a miracle…”

You looked up at him with a small smile plastering your face as tears continued to roll down your cheeks

“I know your mind makes you think all the bad thoughts…but my darling I will remind you today and for the rest of our lives that you are worthy, deserving and absolutely made for love…and i will fight anyone who says otherwise, even your own mind…

You buried your face into his chest as he continued to spoil you with sweet nothings

“and to answer your question again my darling…I love you…for you…kiss…for your heart…kiss…for your soul…kiss…your passion and drive…kiss…the strength you carry…kiss… the kindness you spread…kiss…and so…kiss…much…kiss…more…kiss…”

“thank you…for choosing me…” You murmured

“darling…i would choose you over and over again…you were never an option, you were always the only option”

You nuzzled against his neck and he lifted your chin, bringing your lips to his

——————————————————————————

(a/n): i just wanted to write something sweet 🥹 i need a hug from loki tbh

#loki #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #loki god of mischief #loki marvel #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki sweet #loki x reader fluff #loki fanfiction #loki loves you so much #loki is in love with you #loki is the love of my life

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whirlybirbs · 9 months ago

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BEYOND THE VOID — !

1. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

( MASTERPOST | AO3 | SPOTIFY ) summary: torn from time yet again, it's thursday. six months pass. while you grapple with a newfound uncanny ability to premeditate, loki grapples with the fact he's slipping back into his old self without you. enter brad wolfe. now playing: a whole lots gonna change by weyes blood word count: 3.3k pairing: loki / f!reader, established in from the void, with love tags: enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates, we-are-in-love-in-the-future but how did that even happen, angst & comfort, redemption arc, lots of time travel, loki season 2 (2020) spoilers a/n: finally, they return in "beyond the void". i can't thank everyone enough for the unending enthusiasm for this little project of mine. it's fitting to have the first chapter release with an eclipse. this is for all of you :) the beautiful gif for this chapter is from this set by @tomshiddles.

"Okay."

There's a long stretch of silence between Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster.

In the liminal stretch of the apartment building's hall, there's little sound except the loud drone of some horribly, desperately sad song beyond the door of Unit 1131. The two women share a long look with one another, and then Darcy gestures urgently to the door.

"Go ahead," she nudges her colleague.

"What?" Jane asks in a harsh whisper, "No, you knock."

"You were the one that said we needed to do an intervention—" Darcy argues back in an equally low tone.

"Oh, so now this is on me?" Jane fires back, "She's our friend—"

"Our friend who has been babbling nonsense about things that have not happened and has been seriously obsessing with that Low-key dude—" Darcy rushes out, bringing her face closer to Jane's, "I don't even know what we're walking into here!"

Jane inhales. She pinches her brow. With a long rub of her face, she exhales. Then, she knocks.

She gives Darcy a 'happy?' look before stepping back and crossing her arms.

Almost immediately, the music stops. There's the sound of a shuffle. A meow. And then, the door opens only wide enough that one exhausted eye can peak through the chained gap.

"Heeeeeeeeeey, girl!" Darcy chides, waggling her hands in the air, "Surprise!"

On the other side of the door, your heart clenches.

It feels a little bit like a cruel joke, y'know?

All that wishing, begging, clawing to go home and — well... you are. You're home. You've been home. For six months, you've been home in New York City. You're back in that little studio apartment, with Sigurd, with your research, with your doctorate.

ALL I WANT TO DO IS GO HOME.

You try your best to give both Darcy and Jane a smile, but it comes out mangled and exhausted and not quite right. You've been crying. Sort of par for the course these days.

"Oh, uh... Hi guys."

Sigurd meows.

"You got a sec?" Jane asks, raising a folder in her hands, "We, uh... Erik gave us some new anomaly data to look over and we figured... you're the one for the job! Y'know? It's... kinda... your thing... have you been crying?"

Your eyes dart between them both. You wet your lips.

"No. Nooo, no. It's..." your mouth hangs open as you search for a reason, "...Allergies."

There's a beat of embarrassing silence, and then Darcy moves fast as lightning. She wriggles her arm through the gap and unlocks the chain — almost as if this is definitely something she's mastered before — before pushing her way through the doorway of your apartment. Jane follows close behind, and Sigard squawks as he scurries away from underfoot.

The infiltration is almost immediately regretted because... woah.

Like, big woah.

Darcy has seen crazy. Like, she has an Uncle on her Dad's side who is totally in on the whole "they're coming for our thoughts" thing and does not leave the house without at least six layers of Great Value tinfoil stuffed under his baseball cap. She knows crazy. She works for Erik Selvig.

But this?

This is, like, soooooo above her pay grade.

Jane's jaw is slack. The folder is immediately forgotten on the kitchen island in favor of the wall-to-wall documentation of... whatever the hell this was.

LOKI MISSING? in the center of it all, with string and equations and runes and news articles and tabloid pages. There's an alarming amount of photos of the God in question pinned up beside ramblings on... Time? And... Quantum mechanics...?

There's another loooooong stretch of silence. And then, Darcy and Jane both turn slowly to look at you pressed against the door.

You swallow.

Your face is set in horror.

"It's not what it looks like—"

"Uh, dude, it totally is what it looks like—" Darcy starts, stepping closer to the board and pointing a black, manicured finger at a paparazzi photo of Loki being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower, "What's with all the Loki paraphernalia?! Need I post a lil' throwback Thursday to when he tried to kill us all?"

IT'S THURSDAY AGAIN.

You wince. "You wouldn't understand—"

Then, it happens.

The same thing you've experienced dozens upon dozens of times these last six months happens again: A rush of chatter in your mind, a cacophony of whispers that claw at your thoughts and flood them with has-beens and will-be's. A million things all at once, a little bit of everything from all of time, and then— one thread. One thread that stands out against them all.

"Jane, don't."

Across the room, Jane's fingers pause on the contact number for that pretty S.H.I.E.L.D. agent they've met once or twice now — the one who is managing the Asgardian anomaly cases. With Loki missing, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been desperate to track him down. If this is a lead... If you know where he is...

Jane's face freezes.

Her brows knit.

Your face is split in panic. "I know you think calling Agent Hill is the right thing to do, but—"

"...How did you know I was...?" Jane's voice falls off, her eyes searching your face.

Your voice splinters as you step forward. "If you call Agent Hill, she is going to section our entire division within the week. Thor will be exiled from Earth on conspiracy four days later. We will sit in a cell for five years until they decide we have nothing to do with Loki's disappearance from Asgard."

Darcy's eyes bounce between you and Jane.

"Why are you saying all that like you know it's going to happen?" Jane asks slowly, putting her phone down and closing the gap between you. "Doc, what's going on?"

Your eyes flicker with fear.

And then exhaustion. The walls you've built to keep this away from the others crumble with one worried look from Darcy, and you crumple against the kitchen counter.

Your voice is far away.

"It all started that Thursday."

You thought it would be better now that someone knows.

Truth be told it might be more trouble than it's worth if not to soothe the burden of secrecy — because Darcy keeps treating you like a Magic 8 Ball that, when shaken, is going to spit out readings on the future.

It isn't that easy. I mean, if it was, you would have definitely done everything in your power to avoid the commute traffic this morning.

You don't know why it happens. Or how. You have a theory it has something to do with Alioth, but... without any sort of control, there's no way of knowing. All you know is that in those moments, you're presented with a weave of potential sequences. And in those moments, you can choose to act. Or not.

So far, acting seems to be the best course of action.

But, yea, no. No fortune-cookie-level stuff. No crystal ball, no tarot cards. Just... weird time-whispers. And a migraine that seems to never go away. And dreams. Really vivid dreams. Dreams that happen? And dreams that don't.

If it was a horoscope sort of thing, maybe you wouldn't have missed your morning bus after waiting in line at that coffee shop three blocks down. They always make your coffee a little too bitter, but the girl behind the counter is an NYU grad student you recognized from a mechanical engineering lecture you sat in on three months ago. You've got a soft spot for her. She's always nice to that guy in the baseball cap who seems unhoused.

You hope it all works out for her in the end.

But, Christ this coffee is bitter.

You buzz into Stark Labs at 9:37 am, and you're setting your stuff down at R&D by 9:43 am.

Bruce Banner looks up briefly from his work to slide you a welcoming smile. You return it gently as you settle down on your stool and reacclimate yourself to last week's work.

Mondays, man.

Tony is, as always, later than anyone else. His entrance is followed by the usual boisterous chatter meant as a morale booster. More often than not it's a genius-level comedy routine built on absolutely torturing Dr. Banner. You opt, more often than not, to refuse to enable the bad behavior.

Any laughter is buried deep into these readings from the Tesseract.

And so this has been home for the last four months.

Avengers Tower. R&D. Erik Selvig's Research Team. Theoretical Physics and Quantum Mechanics. Day in, day out.

No TVA, no TemPads, no Sylvie, no Mobius, no Capybaras.

...No Loki.

But, plenty of whispers.

It rocks you out of your focus, iced latte halfway to your lips as you're rooted in this little pocket of voices and threads and whisps of time. There's a thousand, then a hundred, then one.

Your voice is soft.

"Bruce, try the equation again."

From across the room, Tony's voice dies down and Bruce's eyes rise to meet yours. He points to himself, with a questioning raise of the brows.

You nod, then continue to take a sip of your coffee.

And so Bruce does. Wordlessly. And, after a minute, he looks up with a grin.

"So it was right."

"Woulda never known if Iron Dick over here didn't shut up for one second."

Tony's grin is bigger than Bruce's as he meanders over to your lab table and throws an arm around your shoulder. He squeezes you gently. You avoid his eye contact — and in doing so, you miss the momentary grace of concern.

(Tony has known you for a few months now. He knows you adequately enough to gauge that your triple-shot espresso should have been a sextuple. The bags beneath your eyes are dark. There's an edge there. Something jumpy. You're exhausted.)

"Now, that was mean."

"You're torturing him," you fire back lightly, non-the-wiser to his scrutiny.

"It's called exposure therapy—" Tony croons, leaning back and thumbing through some of the notes on your desk. You allow it.

Good. Still sharp. Still better than anyone else at what you do.

"Exposure to workplace terrorism?" You rib back with one cocked brow, "No offense, Bruce, but I like you better not green. Okay, Tony?"

"None taken!" Dr. Banner calls lightly from across the room. He's working on the second part of that equation now.

"Sure, sure, alright, Doc," Tony heads your words, raising both hands and stepping back, "I guess someone hates fun."

"Absolutely," you say blankly, chewing your straw; you point at him, "No laughter."

"None," Tony waggles a finger.

"Not a peep," you remark causally as you spin in your stool and snag your pen from the drawer behind you.

"Any news on the other green guy we hate?" Bruce asks slowly, eyes bouncing between you and Stark.

Your blood goes a little cold. Just like always. It's hard not to react — especially when that other green guy is all you think about day and night.

WHEN YOU LOSE HIM YOU WILL DO ANYTHING TO GET HIM BACK.

You wordlessly shake your head. You shrug. Bruce turns to Stark. Tony is hunched over his bench. His words are a bit muffled by the soldering project he's turned his attention to.

"None. According to Thor he just up and poofed. He was in the middle of atoning before the Buckingham of Asgard and... just warped on out."

So you've heard.

"Hill has been working every lead she can but... the Asgardians are a little touchy-feely on the whole 'earthlings in the domain of the Gods' thing."

"Understandable," you mutter absently.

Tony sits up. "Only time will tell."

...Indeed.

Home.

Unit 1131.

Lonely.

It wasn't before all this... It was full to the brim with contentment. It was comfort, it was bliss. It was indulgent mornings slept beneath the covers and bright music in the kitchen. Cheap wine from the liquor shop on the corner and homemade meals. It was "I finally made it".

Now, it's none of that.

Because he's out there — and you know that you don't belong here anymore.

You drop your bag by the door.

Your boots follow in a trail.

Sigurd mews expectantly, and you scoop him wordlessly into your arms as you weave through the chaos of papers and books. Your carpet is hidden beneath a layer of obsession masquerading as research.

But, there's one thing that pulls you back in each time.

It's that photo.

The one Darcy had pointed at earlier.

Loki is being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower. He's looking back at something, and his expression is broken.

It's you.

You know he's pleading with Thor at that moment through a muzzle, desperate to call your name. He's looking at you, being whisked away by S.H.I.E.L.D. as they clear the area, and your voice is silenced by grief.

You wish you had called out to him then — told him you'd find him again.

Regret is a hell of a thing.

Grief, too.

How do you mourn something you never really had? Not here, not in this timeline.

So you stand there, in the dim lights of your apartment, staring at the photo. And you cry. Just like every night, for the last six months.

In your desk, that magical little daisy made of grass waits.

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

That's the mission.

Mobius M. Mobius thinks it's funny — back then, man if only he would have known that lil' hunch of his was right. Maybe a part of him did. And... Now? Things are different. I mean, everything is different. The TVA is different.

Loki is different.

They say to be loved is to be changed an' all that.

The first thing out of Loki's mouth was your name when Mobius finally saw him again — and then a word vomit of panic, induced by the death of He Who Remains and... time-slippage as OB called it. Lotsa moving parts. Lots to keep track of. But, ultimately, they're in a better spot than they were yesterday.

1.) Loki is no longer falling through the metaphorical cracks in time.

2.) Mobius did not get toasted alive when standing before The Loom.

3.) He never, ever, ever has to do that again.

And now!

They're in London.

1977, huh. Zaniac.

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

...Unless you find him first.

Loki isn't exactly thrilled.

No, Loki knows better than to get his hopes up. Sylvie isn't here. He already told Mobius that. It's too safe. It's a damned movie premiere. There are no radiation burns, no falling stars, and no rampant gunfire. It's too quiet.

It's a movie premiere and you're out there, somewhere, alone. You're... you're lost. He can't protect you here. He can't protect anything. You... You're all he has and you're gone.

And he's here, wasting his damn time.

Brad Wolfe is about to waste more of his time.

Loki's gaze is sharp. His strides are long, and as they approach the fray, the God stands amongst the tallest of guests. He cuts a mean profile. It's times like these that Mobius remembers he is a God.

(It's times like these that Mobius can also see the ever-increasing edge in his partner-in-time. It's a little... worrisome. But understandable. I mean, rip a God's soulmate from his hands and see what happens, right?)

"So, he's an actor now?" Loki comments off-handedly, his irritation grating his heartstrings in a way that reminds him of who he was before all this. He hates it. But, he's angry. He will get you back. Without you...

Without you, he doesn't know what he'll do.

"Or he's undercover."

As they weave, Loki's brows knot in distrust. "Looks pretty real to me."

It smells like cigarettes and perfume, and the flashbulbs bite sharply into Loki's peripherals. The raven-haired trickster winces, tucking his hands into his slacks.

On the red carpet, X-5 moves from interview to interview. Occasionally his laughter rises above the clamor. Each time, Loki's nostrils flare and he rolls his eyes.

It's when he reaches the end of the line that Mobius moves in.

"Will there be a Zaniac Two?"

The look on Brad's face says enough for Mobius to know there's more going on here than just an undercover bit. Brad's laugh, as equally pained as his smile, just cements the fact.

"Mobius! Woah!" A clap on the shoulder, a big hug. "I used to work with this guy!"

Still a show. Still a weasel trying to survive on his little slice of time.

"We're going to need to catch up," he begins, backing up slowly, "You know, why don't we chat after the show?"

"How about now, maybe?" Mobius counters just as Brad turns on his heel and comes face to face with Loki.

The God sneers.

"Woah. Okay, ha, whole gangs here!" he chirps, "Isn't that... great? Wow. I mean, you look — you look great, Loki."

"Why thank you, Brad."

Brad's eyes are manic, and he's searching the crowd quickly — no doubt looking for an exit. Then, they catch something. When Brad claps his hands together and pats them on both Loki and Mobius' shoulders, the two TVA agents pause.

"Everything alright?" Loki asks, head tilting in faux concern.

"Everything is great, actually, because when I was here," he begins, words quick and anxious as he tries to weave some sort of story, "I met a mutual friend!"

"Sylvie?" Mobius asks tightly.

"No, no, uh, better—"

Loki's jaw tightens. Enough of this. "We have some mutual friends back at the TVA who would like a word, as well—"

"Doc!" calls Brad after finally finding her in the sea of people, turning on his heel and calling out over his shoulder, "I got people I need you to meet!"

And just like that, it's like Loki's whole world splits wide open again.

In the fray of photographers and journalists, in the fray of drinks and the haze of smoke, there's you. You're smiling at Brad, positively beaming. You're bright as a star and Gods, there's no one in the room when you step forward with a laugh.

Your dress is green. Your hair is different.

There's a beauty mark on your left cheek. His version of you has a scar that lies there. A mistimed gift from Sylvie before their period on Lamentis.

"Doc, these are some of my friends from work," Brad points, his hand falling along your waist in a way that makes Loki's blood boil; the ex-TVA Hunter leans close to your cheek, "They're the real deal."

You laugh into your drink, then extend your hand to Mobius. He's trying his best to hide his growing dread. "It's a pleasure."

Mobius takes it and shakes it gently. "And how do you have the pleasure of knowing our starlet, Brad?"

Damn it. He's losing Loki in real time here.

"Doc here did all the practical effects on set for Zaniac," Brad's eyes connect with Loki's — but the God is focused on only you... Her. Until Wolfe digs in with a low murmur meant to do just what it does, "She's a real wiz with her hands."

The God's face snaps. He will kill Brad, he decides. But, then this other-you moves to offer her hand and he can't help but melt.

His fingers are trembling when he touches her skin.

"Have we met before?" comes the soft lilt of her voice — this Variant's eyes are brown. They search Loki's face for a shred of recognition but all that's there between the two of them is raw attraction. A law of time and space unhindered by meddling hands. No matter where, no matter when, you will find one another.

Loki's mouth is dry. Your lipstick shade is a dark rogue. He thinks about that kiss back in the Void. He's stuck there, with your hand in his, when Brad bolts.

Her face contorts in confusion. She pulls away. But, Loki lingers.

He has to... He...

He needs you back.

Now.

#beyond the void #from the void with love #loki x reader #loki x doc #loki x y/n #loki reader insert #loki/reader #loki/you #loki imagine #marvel imagine #marvel reader insert #loki season 2 fic #marvel fanfic

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mynameistocool · 1 year ago

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He’s eating up my brain at this point

#i’m in love #mobius x reader #mobius mcu #mobius m mobius #mobius #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu loki #loki spoilers #loki season 2 #loki series #loki laufeyson #loki

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ellamuffin97 · 3 months ago

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Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Warnings : pregnancy , angst to fluff ,hurt comfort

A/n: Loki is the kind of a man who only stay or leave, there is no in between . How would he react when he came from a mission and finds out his girlfriend is pregnant ?

Word count : ~1k

In the end , it’s him and I❤️💚

You anxiously heave a sigh, leaning forward towards the mirror as your fingers dig into the corners of the sink.

The small test stick in between your fingers causing anxiety to creep up to you. You find it difficult to breathe with every passing second, almost as if you’re drowning in water.

Loki has made it clear in multiple occasions that he is against having kids, that he won’t want any little brats spawns at his care. He has repeatedly said that if he is to have kids, he’d probably use the milk trick and never come back, ever again. You’ve never thought about it before, but now that you’re at the situation, you have no clue with what you’re supposed to do.

In a shimmer of green , he came home right when you were about to burst into tears holding that little stick in you hands .

“Are you in a bad mood kærasta ?”

His voice sends a chill down on your spine as you dropped the test down the floor with a yelp, frightened eyes looking at him as you try to breathe in as much air as you possibly can.

“Oh ,uh..hi — no. i’m fine.” you say rather quickly, making sure to slowly snag the test using your foot and hiding it from him, trying to be discreet but fail miserably when he sees your foot moving the object towards you.

“What are you hiding from me?” he asks, moving closer towards you.

Your eyes fall down on the ground, causing you to pick up the item faster and move it to your hand.

“What is that?” He demanded , comeing closer to you

“N-nothing.” you reply, trying to break the test stick but fail when it falls out of your grip and goes back to the ground once more.

You’re quick to move, but Loki is quicker, using his Æsir to vanish it from the floor and making it reappear between his slender fingers as he reads the test.

“What on Earth is this?!.” he says aloud, eyes glued to the stick as he reads it all over and over again, but the more he reads it the realer it becomes.

He can’t seem to grasp the concept, not sure if he’s reading it right.

“(y/n), what the fuck is this?!” He sais , eyes never leaving yours

“L-loki please calm down.” you mutter, reaching your hand out to grab the test stick away from him, but he raises his hand above his head, making sure you don’t grab it away from him.

Your heart races as you look down, refusing to look up, afraid as to what you’ll see when you’ll look at his mysterious blue eyes.

“No, darling ! I won’t calm down until you tell me what the fuck this is.” oh Loki does well know what he has in his possession, that one test stick that he’s learned to hate as time goes by. He clearly sees the two lines that clearly yell positive at him, yet he can’t bring himself to believe it at all. He was a God , and you a mortal . How could he get you pregnant ?

“It is a pregnancy test Loki” you mutter, gaining all the confidence to say something.

You wish he’d say something, just anything to keep the conversation going, but much to your disdain, he says nothing back.

“I ….— i’m pregnant.”

“No * he laughs *. That can’t be. YOU can’t be.” it breaks you heart, the way he refuses to believe what you’re saying, his voice slowly cracking in his throat. “I was so careful….what do you mean you’re pregnant? ” he says, looking down at your hair. “Look at me. How the fuck did this happen? ”

You take a big gulp, looking further down to the ground, but Loki places his hand underneath your chin and tips it upwards. He looks at you with a confused expression, mixed with pain, one you can’t decipher.

“Did you … *he gulped , his eyes becoming a dark shade of blue . Did you cheat on me?”

“No babe I never did!” you quickly deny, placing your hands over his cheecks . He shakes his head, dropping his hands to his side and walking back. You watch as a lonely tear slowly starts to creep up underneath the corners of his eyes. This is what you didn’t want to happen, Loki would be leaving you now and you know why.

“I … have to go.”

“wait– LOKI! ”

He leaves in a whim, disappearing in a shimmer of green . You drop to your knees, wrapping your arms around your stomach. You’ve decided straight after you saw the two lines , you decided that you would keep the baby, whether Loki would stay or not.

You know this was bound to happen, you know that Loki would run as soon as he would know.

You knew he would be dead set on leaving you as soon as he knows you have a baby growing into you.

But what you don’t know is how much Loki is in love with you.

Down the empty hallway of you apartment,Loki resides. His hands over the wall as he shakes. You wouldn’t know but Loki loves you to the ends of the nine realms , even if he wouldn’t voice it out. He would rip the whole world to shreds if anyone would try to take you away from him.

But he didn’t expect to have a child of his own, moreover a child with you, that is. He s been told multiple times that Gods can’t have children with mortals . Because it’s against the rules .

He would be lying if he says a part of him isn’t happy that he has a child with you, but that’s only half of his thoughts. It Isn’t because Loki hates children, it’s because he is afraid. Loki is so afraid of turning into his father.

His father was so neglectful , never showed to any of him or Thor that he loved them , punishing them harshly when they were kids . But with Thor was better . Loki always felt alone , neglected and unloved . That’s the least Loki would want to be.

But then he thinks about it, realisation hit him like a stone in the face . He would become exactly like his father if he doesn’t come back to his senses and support you, love you and assure you that everything is going to be okai and admit that he is ready to face the responsibilities that he’s supposed to be facing, rather than running from them . He has to be there for the child that he’s put into you, he has to see them grow up and become someone better than him, someone who would see the better side of life while still knowing the truth, unlike him who was blinded by the expectations he was pushed on to.

So you least expected it when he opens the door and walks into the room, a small smile on his face. He just sat down next to you and wraps his arms around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“We’re going to get through this together, alright? I love you so much darling , and I’m sorry . “

You just wiped his tears and kiss him on the lips , hiding your face between his shoulder and neck.

“I’m so scared *you admitted sobbing “

“Me too*he smiled weakly . But you have me … I have you and we … we have our little bean *he said placing a hand on your belly . We are a family and I promise to both of you everything is going to be alright .”

#loki x y/n #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #pregnant reader #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #love wins

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